


A Mother's Love

by aqueentorattlestars



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Gen, young!rhysand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqueentorattlestars/pseuds/aqueentorattlestars
Summary: Rhysand’s Mother, Idira, has a nightmare detailing a death that would rip her soul to shreds. She awakes and deals with the aftershock of the nightmare.





	A Mother's Love

**Author's Note:**

> So, I couldn’t get this out of my head… I really want to write more about Idira. She's a character that has been nestled in my heart and I fully plan on writing a multichapter fic for her.

_Laughter filtered through the warm meadow as she watched her children run in and out of the tall grass warmed by the midday sun; the day was nothing sort of perfection as the siblings raced to see who was truly the fastest.  Idira smiled tenderly as Rhysand eased off his pace, allowing his younger sister to be the victor once more._  

 _She looked down for a moment; plucking a flower to add to the crown she was weaving for her youngest, and when she looked up again horror pooled in her stomach… Where Rhys had once been, a creature of tooth, claw, and antler stood in his place. Yellowed, fanged teeth gnashing as his jaw unhinged; snapping open and close in a deadly mouth set on one purpose. He moved with the most unnatural of speed; limbs with razor claws reaching out to pull at her daughter._  
  
A scream tore from her mouth and she leaped to run fast, faster– but never fast enough. At the end of the meadow, the antlered beast prowled closer and closer; his prey unaware while he stalked the Illyrian halfbreed. A silent scream ripped from Idira’s throat; but she could not be heard—her shouts fell on deaf ears. And where had Rhys gone? Where was her son? Idira sprinted, her sides splintering with the effort but she did not dare slow, did not dare look anywhere but towards the Fae beast that sought to pounce on the innocent. She was within reach of her daughter…   
  
“Mother!! Help me!!!” her daughter, Anisa, pleaded in tears, stumbling but within reach of Idira.

_Her finger tips brushed against her daughter’s palm, meaning to grasp, but instead was greeted with slick, sticky blood. Her sensitive ears rang with the blood-curdling screams Anisa as the beast was upon her. The blood continued to spray over Idira in a gruesome shower. She heard it first, rather than saw it; heard that sickening, crunching, ripping sound of bone being shattered. Idira looked up to see those beautiful, perfect wings bloodied and torn and hanging limply in the beast’s foul mouth. Hazel eyes met those of green; the green of spring, the green of every plant in existence melded together into one indescribable shade._  
  
With a warrior’s yell, the Illyrian female thrust herself upon the beast. Clawing and tearing; nails breaking into the rugged hide. Where nails failed, she ripped into muscle with teeth. Anything. Anything _to stop the beast from taking her daughter from her. She would give her wings up to spare her children—give her very breath to ensure Anisa and Rhysand lived._  
  
It was too late.   
Anisa was already bleeding out.

 _Her skin became pallid, eyes lifeless and glazed over—jagged stumps of wings breaking out over her shoulders; blood oozing uncontrollably as the arteries bled out._  
  
And she could do nothing to stop it…  
  
She screamed, thrashed, fought as hard as she could; but nothing could be done– her daughter was dead and she was soon to join her. She failed. The beast began to morph, face still obscured… Familiar, but not. Hate. So much hate throbbed from him… And he smiled at her, whispering, ‘Your turn.’  
  
In her dreams, Idira was clawing at her throat, trying to rip jaws away that were clamped in death’s suffocation. The action was mimicked in reality; her nails raking against her slender throat– angry, red marks a stark contrast against the brown of her skin. Another unearthly scream was ripped from her lips; vocal chords straining at the effort. The Fae towered over her as the he began to rip her wings from her still-living flesh.   
  
**“Help!”**  she groaned out in shuddered breath, still lost to the cruel clutches of the nightmare– mumbling, begging for rescue. Salvation was not to be had as the teeth continued to shred. Where once a warm, cheery sun had been… Now there was blackness and chaos and the red of blood. Blood. It covered everywhere she saw—her daughter’s blood, her mate’s blood, and a human woman she did not know… Blood of thousands as bodies fell to the ground out of the air; bodies of males, females, fae, human, and children mangled and broken crashing down in deafening thuds.  
  
What hell had been released upon the world?   
  
She was lost to the terror of her sleep. On her own, she stood no chance against ever waking from this world. Her world would end not in a bang… But a silent, lonely whimper for help. For a help she doubted would come…   
  
The earth beneath was breaking open its ugly maw; nothing but black nothingness beneath ushered with the wailing of devoured souls. She was falling, falling, falling– reaching out in one last desperate attempt for anyone to save her. She knew they would not come.  
  
But a hand caught hers. Unyielding, steadfast… It held strong. A blinding light of hope in a place that had squashed the fight from out of her. It was a hand that would not let go. Her savior had come. She could not see his face– but knew him to be her High Lord. In this hand, she felt their lives and souls entwine. His darkness brushed against her consciousness… Whispering for her to wake; his glow filtering down into her skin.   
  
And in one strong pull, she was hoisted out of the pit and into arms that sought to protect her from the demons of the terror.   
Idira jolted awake.

Her body was racked with tremors of the terrors that still haunted her; the images flooding through her mind in a blur. Wild, hazel eyes looked around the room for the mate that had saved her. That had pulled her from the nightmare—but, already, he was gone. A linger of shadowy darkness the only thing that hinted he had woken her. It would have been foolish of Idira to expect anything more than that… Love did not exist between them. Only that bond. Only her gratitude.   
  
Her heart began to slow its thundering pace when she started to decipher what was real and what had only been part of that horrible dream. Emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted she could barely manage the strength to rise from the bed. But… She needed to see with her own eyes. Needed to see that Rhysand and Anisa slept peacefully and safely in the confines of their rooms.

Quiet steps stole her away into the night, leading her first to her youngest’s room. A calm began to slowly trickled down her soul, settling a spirit that had been torn by her own mind.  **“Safe,”**  Idira whispered hoarsely, her forehead pressed to the coolness of the doorframe. Time lapsed without notice as she continued to look on at the beautiful female lost to the world of sweet dreams. Unlike what her mother had experienced that night.   
  
At last, satisfied that Anisa was alive and well, Idira forced herself to continue on to the next room. To peek in on her brave, kind Rhys. So much like his father outwardly—but, inwardly, he had a heart like hers. A creak echoed in the darkness when the door was pushed forward, just enough to look upon her firstborn. Tears hedged, silver lining expressive eyes as the moonlight caressed his face.   
  
Drowsily, Rhys stirred from slumber; bleary-eyed and sitting up to see his mother at his door. “ _Mother?”_  he asked through a yawn, sleep still kissing his youthful face _, “Is everything okay?”_  
  
Guilt twisted in her gut at having woken Rhysand—but it did her soul well to hear his voice and see those violet eyes looking to her and not shadowed in pain. A smile touched her full lips,  **“Yes, Rhys. Everything is fine.”**  A white lie. One that her young son saw through.

Rather than insult his mother by pressing her further, the male climbed out of his bed. Darkness and starlight curling behind him as wings were given form. His pants still clung onto his hips and he offered consolation in the only way he knew,  _“Mother? Can we go on a flight? While the rest of the world sleeps?”_

Throat bobbed as thick emotion gathered there. Idira closed the distance between herself and her son. A silent nod and a kiss pressed to his brow.  **“The stars are calling our names and we must answer,”**  she said as tears glistened down her cheeks.   
  
For them. She would give anything and everything.


End file.
